Not Even Then
by Void.Of.Memory
Summary: Maerad is training, and Cadvan comes to watch. But when she passes out, Cadvan will have to take care of her. Short and fluffy.


**Wassup readers? I found this, and thought I'd share. The ending for this was originally going to be extremely differently I'm almost positive. It might have been Cadvan cooking? Anyhow, enjoy. Belongs not to me, but to Allison Croggon. A bit of spoilers, just some tiny foreshadowing. **

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"No, no, no and a thousand times no!" Indik growled fiercely, teeth clenched. "Mistress Maerad, if you are to win fights, you must hold your sword!"

Maerad set her jaw and held back her words as she bent to pickup her weapon, sighing. This pitch was too enclosed to her- she couldn't get enough air with this chain mail on. Though it was probably better than being outside. Maerad dreaded the thought of the people of Innail knowing just how bad she was.

But why did this Bard have to be such a cruel teacher? He hadn't even come close to a word of praise, and all of his advice was dripping with sarcasm. She longed for Dernhil's patience or Silvia's even temper- even Cadvan would be more helpful than who she had now. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, Indik always seemed to have a sarcastic remark to remind her how awful she was. It didn't help that she ached all over from yesterday's lesson, or that she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Her teacher snapped his fingers with impatience, interrupting her brooding. "Come on now, I don't have all day for this!"

Maerad gritted her teeth, but straightened, sword in hand. She readied herself for another assault, verbal and physical, by her teacher.

He didn't bother to ask if she was ready- Indik simple nodded as he stepped forward. Maerad mirrored his movements carefully- stepping back when he advanced and vise versa. A few light hits were exchanged with their blades- though Maerad didn't drop her sword. Her confidence grew when she managed to parry one of his stronger attacks. The block must have surprised the older man, as no comment came from him.

They were both dripping sweat after a few minutes, and Maerad's parries and dodges were getting more and more sloppy. Finally, Indik held up his left hand for a halt. Wearily, Maerad lowered her sword and waited for the criticism.

"Hail the warrior maiden!" Cadvan's voice rang out cheerfully from the entrance to the pitch. Maerad turned sharply. How long had her mentor been standing there?

The Bard rushed over to his student, a smile on his face. "Good work Maerad! Finest I've seen all week!"

Maerad gapes at him. "'All week?'" She echoed, "You've been watching me?"

Cadvan laughed at her expression, "I've peeked in once or twice- enough to know that you would have dropped your sword the first time your blade was touched before."

Suddenly, Maerad felt self-conscious. She hadn't wanted Cadvan to know just how horrible she was at swordplay. And besides- she was covered in sweat and didn't even want to think about how bad she smelled. _Who cares?_ She thought to herself. _He's seen and been through worse with you._

"He's isn't lying." Indik muttered gruffly. "You've improved." He sheathed his sword and nodded at Cadvan. "Now if you don't mind, I have more accomplished swordsmen to train. Good afternoon."

"Don't worry about him Maerad." Cadvan assured her, waving away Indik's remark as the swords-master stalked off . "He's just not use to beginners."

"You mean he's not use to people who are useless at fighting." Maerad muttered as she undid her belt and mail straps. "Don't bother hiding it Cadvan- I know how bad I am."

"Nonsense!" He shook his head, and chuckled. "There are certainly people worse than you." He clapped her on the back, but his student twisted away from his hand.

Maerad's foul mood was not lifted in the slightest from his words "And I suppose you've met a few." She grumbled, pulling off the damp mail. She wasn't in the mood for Cadvan's silly attempts to cheer her up.

Her mentor frowned at her. He had left her this morning in a relatively good mood. What had happened? "Are you feeling alright Maerad?" He asked gingerly. The girl looked like she was about to cry with frustration.

"I'm fine." She snapped, brushing away a stray lock of hair angrily. With her stuff gathered in her arms, she made to storm off. She managed two steps before her knees buckled.

Cadvan saw her beginning to fall and cried out her name as he rushed to catch her. Maerad landed in his outstretched arms with an inch to spare. Her mentor gently placed her on the rough pitch and grasped her by the chin, turning his student's face towards him.

"Don't lie to me Maerad." He sighed softly. "What's wrong?"

Maerad could see the worry reflected in Cadvan's eyes. _He's only trying to help_, she thought to herself. _He's not one of those bastards from Gilman's Cot._

"I-" She stopped herself, long time habit not wanting her to show weakness. She struggled for a moment before speaking again. "My head feels... Off. Like I haven't slept in a few days. And my stomach is lurching like I'm going to be sick."

Cadvan's frown deepened considerably. He laid a hand on her forehead, and carefully placed his other hand over her wrist.

Maerad hadn't noticed how warm she was until Cadvan's cool hands were against her skin. "That feels so good." She mumbled, closing her eyes. "Don't stop."

Cadvan nodded without noticing that his student wouldn't be able to see him. He kept his body still, only moving his hands to cool other parts of her face. She was warm- too warm for his liking. She must have been getting sick.

Eventually, Maerad fell asleep on the pitch. Cadvan shifted finally, stretching out his legs and working out the cramps in his arms. Maerad shifted towards her teacher slightly, but didn't wake when he took his hands off. Cadvan wait for a moment, to make sure she was really sleeping, then picked her up. She was lighter than he had expected, and he felt as if he could crush her. Cadvan moved through the side streets, hiding when people came near, as he brought Maerad back to her bedroom. He couldn't have anyone see them- they already thought the two of them were lovers, but what would people think if they saw him carrying her?

Once safely in her chamber, the Bard tenderly put her on the bed. He moved carefully, doing his best to unwrap her fingers that had balled into fists around his clothing. He smiled sadly at her sleeping form- she was so peaceful. Cadvan wondered how long how it would last.

He stayed for hours by her side, not leaving the room even once to eat. The sun set, stars rose and Cadvan could see candles being lit in the houses when he looked out the window. But still he didn't move. The only time he left his chair was to lay a hand on the girl's forehead to see if the fever was any worse. It had.

As he stood over her, his hand on her now-burning forehead, he was again shocked by just how small of a girl Maerad truly was. She barely took up more than a third of the bed, her feet inches from touching the end. She had such a fierce presence in the Bard's head that it seemed impossible that she was so small in real life. Was it even possible that she would be capable of handling the pressure and the struggles that were to come?

_Of course!_ Cadvan scolded himself fiercely._ She has been through much, and will continue to stay strong._

_And I will do whatever I can… No whatever I need to help her through it all._

Cadvan smiled at the girl's sleeping form, slowly remembering her fever. The smile dropped from his face and he rushed from the room. It was late enough that no one would be loitering in the halls, though he could hear voices from some of the bedrooms. He made it to the healing room as quickly as his long legs would get him and still be silent. He grabbed some compresses, a bucket of cold water and a bundle of herbs made to reduce fever.

"If only I knew what this was!" He grumbled to himself. "This will have to do." He wished he could wake Sylvia and not have to explain the whole story to merit her help.

After detouring to the kitchen to pick up leftovers for himself, and Maerad, if she woke up, he was in her room again. The door had shut when he had left, and for a spilt second, he felt afraid to push open the door. A terrible sense of foreboding had come over him, as if opening the door would bring about a terrible event. An image of an argument came to mind, and then an avalanche. The vision was powerful- he could almost feel the cold of the snow and the dust from the rocks caught in his throat. What was going on?

Then it passed. The cold evaporated and the coughs subsided. Cadvan looked down at his feet and saw that he had dropped the cloths and herbs, but the hand holding the bucket was clenched so tight around the rope handle that his knuckles were white and he could feel his nails cutting into his palms. With a shaking breath, he gathered up the things he had dropped and pushed open the door. The smell of Maerad, of straw and spring flowers and tears, washed over him. The girl had curled up into a ball and was shivering now. Cadvan crossed the distance to her bed in two easy steps, quickly pressing a compress to her head. The herbs were put under her tongue- Cadvan felt as if he would shatter her jaw when he opened it. She was so much more fragile than she appeared, then he ever remembered.

As soon as his hand left her skin, he felt the dust in his throat. Cold numbness invaded his fingertips and the Bard could have sworn he heard rumbling. Maerad too, seemed to notice. The shaking worsened, and she began to whimper. Cadvan reached out and grabbed her hands in his- the movement was a reflex, that was the only way to describe it. He hadn't consciously thought about it, but the minute their palms touched, he felt better. The sleeping girl must have too- the noises stopped, and she settled into the covers.

"Don't leave me Cadvan," She sighed in her fevered sleep. "Don't let go of me."

The Bard smiled, a genuine smile that many hadn't seen on his face in years. "Not until you send me away." He whispered back, planting a kiss on the back of each of her hands. "And maybe not even then."

The Bard did his best to ignore the way the room seemed to shake slightly, or the faint neighing of horses that echoed when Maerad took her breaths. He focused on the way he heartbeat was synced with Maerad's, instead of the chaos coursing through his veins.

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**Honestly, this was a bit of a pointless story, but I kinda like it none the less. And I won't lie, Cadvan and Maerad- I wish they had gotten together. But let me know what you think! Rate and review, please and thank you!**


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